


Piece by Piece

by NachoDiablo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America Sam Wilson, Identity Porn, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Explicit, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Semi-Public Sex, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22230439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/pseuds/NachoDiablo
Summary: Sam's new partner for an upcoming mission isn't quite as unknown as he'd assumed. And there's only one bed. Of course.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Comments: 26
Kudos: 81
Collections: On Your Left - SamSteve Bingo





	1. Bathroom Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [On Your Left Bingo](https://samstevebingo.tumblr.com/), thanks to the mods for running an awesome event!
> 
> Each chapter is a square filled from [my card](https://nachodiablo.dreamwidth.org/30248.html): Bathroom Sex, Team Cap, Sharing a Bed, “You can get rough with me. I won’t break.” and Heartfelt Confession.

Sam struggled to catch his breath as he re-zipped his pants and tucked in his shirt. He tried not to make eye contact with the slight blond man re-dressing himself next to him, but it was hard to be casual in a cramped public bathroom.

“Well,” said the blond as he pushed his thick-framed black glasses up on his nose, “that was…”

He blushed as his voice trailed off. Sam couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. “Yeah,” he replied. “It sure was.”

It hadn’t been anything Sam had planned. He’d just spent fourteen hours straight in a strategy meeting with his team and some of the more important-- and therefore more difficult-- higher-ups. Nat had been uncharacteristically heated over logistics for one of the proposed missions, and Bucky had been bleary eyed and jet lagged, having just gotten off the quinjet after three sleepless days in Germany. It had been a struggle for Sam to keep his team on task as the hours wore on.

By the end of the day, everyone was well and truly beat. Sam had intended to head straight home, but Nat had teased him about his lack of social life.

“You’re looking fine, in your best suit,” she’d said with a grin. “Can’t let all that go to waste. Go out and get laid.”

“Yeah, that’s just what I want,” Sam had grumbled. “Gonna go hit up the club, have a wild night.”

“The kids don’t say  _ hit up the club _ anymore,” Bucky had piped in through a stifled yawn. “If they ever did. But Nat’s right, you do look nice. You should have some fun before the mission tomorrow. We know you’re stressed about it. Might be good to take the edge off.”

Sam had frowned at that. He wasn’t stressed, exactly. Their next mission was going to be straightforward and boring, mostly intel gathering, nothing he couldn’t handle. But it would be long, nearly three weeks, and he’d be travelling with a partner. Someone as yet to be determined, from data ops.

Captain America was a semi-anonymous position. Sam wore a mask while on official Cap business, and was seldom recognized out and about in the city. At SHIELD, he blended in with the other agents in their nondescript uniforms, and didn’t socialize with any coworkers outside of his core team, all of whom respected his privacy. When he was off duty, he talked shit with his friends about anything other than work.

At first, it had been nice to have his personal and professional lives separate, but it was getting more and more draining to keep up a charade with his friends about what he’d been up to that week. It was easier to just stay home and veg out alone.

Nat had suggested more than once that he start dating again, but it felt like a waste of time. Sam couldn’t have a real relationship if he wasn’t honest about being Cap. And of course, dating openly as Cap came with a whole slew of other potential problems.

Sam was growing weary of the constant compartmentalization, but he wasn’t quite sure how to tie all the different threads of his life together. That made the upcoming mission all the more stressful. Whomever got paired with him on this mission would know for sure that Sam Wilson was Captain America. Sam knew Fury and Hill would choose someone trustworthy, but it still made him a little uneasy.

He’d ended up ducking into one of the hipster bars on his walk home and grabbing a whiskey on the rocks. The warm burn of the drink had relaxed him some, and when the blond had sidled up next to him at the bar, a nervous but determined  _ on your left _ slipping from his lips as he sat down, well. 

One thing had led to another, and now Sam had a wrinkled suit and love bites on his inner thighs. 

Slender fingers slipped through his own and gave a light squeeze as Sam opened the bathroom door and peered out into the blessedly empty hallway.

“I guess… Maybe I’ll see you around?” The blond seemed hopeful, and Sam felt a pang of regret. He’d had a fun night. The blond had been so earnest when he’d bought Sam a second drink, and then later when he’d pressed Sam up against the bathroom door and kissed him until they were both breathless. There’d been something sort of… familiar, in the way he’d bantered with Sam, something that had set Sam at ease right from the start.

But the timing couldn’t have been worse, with the extended mission looming ahead. And it wasn’t like it was anything serious. Hell, they hadn’t even exchanged names. Still, Sam couldn’t help but smile as he squeezed the blond’s hand in return.

“Maybe you will.”


	2. Team Cap

“So, you took my advice. Smart man.” Nat fell into step alongside Sam as he made his way down the hall at SHIELD headquarters. “You’re practically glowing this morning.”

Sam rolled his eyes, even as he accepted one of the coffees from the cardboard tray in her hands. “Maybe I just got a decent night’s sleep for once.”

“That must be it.” Nat’s tone was amused, but Sam didn’t reply. 

When they arrived at Conference Room 42-B, Bucky was already there standing in front of the window. He smiled as they entered, but his stiff posture indicated that he’d been pacing before they’d entered.

“Hey,” Bucky said with a small nod. “You nervous about the mission?”

“Nah,” Sam replied, “but you clearly are. Everything okay?”

Nat handed Bucky a coffee cup and set the tray down on the table. “I thought you were sitting this one out. You only just got back from Germany. You still look like hell.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled into his coffee. “I heard it at home already.” He took another sip of his drink. “I’m not here for the mission, anyway. I’m here for Steve.”

“Steve?” Sam asked. “What’s up with him?” 

Although Sam had never met Steve, Bucky’s roommate and lifelong best friend, he’d heard plenty about him. Steve was a SHIELD agent, one who did mostly desk work. He’d been the one to organize the slightly-illegal rescue party two years back when Bucky had gone AWOL behind enemy lines. Bucky often complained fondly about Steve fussing over him, but as far as Sam could tell, Bucky gave as good as he got.

“Steve’s gonna be your partner,” Bucky explained. “He’s Agent 18, in data ops. You mighta worked with him before, actually. Just not in person.”

“Oh?” Sam’s voice creaked, and he willed himself to keep a neutral expression as Nat eyed him curiously. “He’s-- I didn’t realize.”

Sam might not know Steve, but he did know Agent 18. He often had to transmit data back to headquarters while he was out on field ops, and Agent 18 was one of his preferred partners. Agent 18 was quick, efficient, and understood Sam’s rushed shorthand. 

Agent 18 was also very funny and kind, which Sam had learned during some of their flirtier chats while waiting for their files to transfer back and forth.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said, apparently mistaking Sam’s embarrassment for apprehension. “Steve’ll take good care of you.”

The door opened and Maria Hill stepped in, followed by a slight man with blond hair hanging in bright blue eyes that widened when they locked with Sam’s. He wore thick-rimmed black glasses and, it could be assumed, a love bite under his collar.

“Yeah,” Sam muttered, mostly to himself. “I’m sure he will.”


	3. Sharing a Bed

The motel door had peeling paint and a busted peephole, but Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he swiped the keycard through the lock. Once he scanned the room, however, his relief flared into dread.

There was only one bed.

He and Steve had spent the last two and a half weeks on the road together, travelling from one lead to the next. Sam had spent his days infiltrating various compounds and gathering data. Every night, he’d return to their hotel room, and Steve would process and transmit it to headquarters. It was nice, having a partner, especially since by the end of the day, Sam was drained. He and Steve got along well, exchanging gentle quips and sharing the narrow selection of vending machine snacks Steve wasn’t allergic to, while they watched whatever free movies were on television.

But it was a little awkward, having to share a room with someone who’d recently had their tongue in your most intimate places. Especially when you’d unknowingly had a tiny crush on that someone for months.

And now, there was only one bed. Shit.

“Oh.” Steve’s voice piped up from behind Sam. “It’s… smaller than usual.”

“Yeah,” Sam drawled. “You could say that.”

“I just did.”

Steve grinned at Sam’s mock glare. They entered the room and set down their backpacks. Steve grabbed the ice bucket and headed towards the door with a nod of his head. Once the door had shut behind him, Sam groaned and flopped back onto the bed. He rubbed his eyes and allowed himself thirty seconds to brood, then got up, smoothed out the sheets, and began to rummage through his backpack for his sweatpants.

By the time Steve returned, Sam was lounging on the bed, staring at the television as he flipped through the channels. Steve set the ice bucket down on the desk, then changed quickly into his own pajamas. Sam kept his eyes locked on the Food Network.

Once Steve was dressed, he sat on the edge of the bed, gingerly, as though it might collapse under his scant weight. Sam patted the empty space next to him. “Come on.  _ Chopped _ ain’t gonna watch itself.”

The relaxed tone of his voice belied no hint of Sam’s nervousness. At least, he hoped it didn’t. Steve didn’t seem to notice as he scooted closer to Sam on the bed. One thin arm brushed against Sam’s, the prickled goosebumps cool against his own warm skin. 

“You cold?” Sam asked. He almost moved to wrap his arm around Steve, but stopped himself just in time. This was a professional trip, he reminded himself, and he was technically Steve’s superior. He didn’t want to make the situation any more uncomfortable than it already was.

Which wasn’t all that uncomfortable, to be honest. Steve was easy to talk to, and the inside jokes that they’d been tossing back and forth via chat for the past few months had translated seamlessly into their in-person conversations. He also didn’t shy away from giving Sam a dash of grief, Captain America or no.

Steve eyed Sam for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s a little chilly.” He shifted closer towards Sam, almost imperceptibly, but then he froze and pulled his arms tighter around himself. 

The silence went on a beat too long. “We can get under the blankets,” Sam said eventually. Steve looked relieved as they shimmied their way under the comforter. Sam pulled the covers up to his chest. Steve’s went all the way to his chin.

Sam felt ridiculous. They were two grown ass men, not a couple of teenagers on their first sleepover. And this was  _ Steve. _ The two of them had always had an easy repartee, even when they’d met as strangers in a bar. It was a little late in the game for awkwardness.

Evidently, Steve agreed. He leaned against Sam’s arm and nodded towards the television, where  _ Chopped _ continued to stream. “Look at that. I’m only deathly allergic to two of the mystery ingredients for this round.”

Without hesitation, Steve tilted his head to settle on Sam’s shoulder. Sam took a breath, then allowed his own head to rest against Steve’s hair. It was soft, and smelled like Sam’s shampoo. Sam smiled to himself. This might be temporary, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it while it lasted.


	4. “You can get rough with me. I won’t break.”

The sun had barely begun to stream through the blinds when Sam’s eyes fluttered open. Yawning, he took in his surroundings. He didn’t remember falling asleep, and yet he was lying on his side, burrowed under the covers. 

With a small, wheezing form nestled against his back, and a thin arm locked firmly around his waist.

Steve’s breath was warm against the nape of Sam’s neck. Sam could hear the telltale snores of Steve’s morning congestion. They were quiet, almost soothing, and paired with the weight of Steve’s arm, they had Sam more relaxed than he’d been in a long time.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen asleep with anyone. Well, no, that wasn’t true. He’d spent far too many nights on missions with Nat’s elbows jammed into his spine, or shivering while Bucky unknowingly burritoed himself in the covers.

This was different. Safe, Sam realized. He felt  _ safe, _ like he could let his guard down and Steve would be there to support him. Like maybe Steve might want to do the same with him. Steve had known Sam as so many different people- faceless SHIELD agent, stranger at the bar, and now finally as Cap- and in every setting, they’d been drawn to each other, finding a rapport almost immediately. With Steve, Sam felt like  _ Sam _ again. 

Steve’s breathing stuttered, and Sam realized he had started to wake. The calm feeling started to knot with worry in the pit of Sam’s stomach. Slowly, he turned around to face Steve. Blue eyes, heavy with sleep, blinked at him, then widened. 

Before Sam could say anything, a smirk bloomed on Steve’s face. “You snore,” he declared.

Sam raised an eyebrow. It was a bold accusation from someone who’d been snuffling just a few moments earlier. He was about to say as much, but the look of mirth on Steve’s face had him smiling in return. They dissolved into giggles and light shoulder shoves, like a couple of kids. Any nervousness faded, leaving Sam feeling light and giddy, and then Steve’s hand rested against his arm, and one of them leaned in, or maybe both of them did, and they were kissing, slow and chaste between chuckles. Steve shuffled closer and moved his hand to curl along the back of Sam’s neck. The kisses took a decidedly less innocent turn as Steve pressed his body against Sam’s, parted his lips, and dove in deeper.

They fit together, moving in tandem as they intertwined. It would have been easy for Sam to get lost in the moment, to let Steve press him back against the pillows and see what those slender fingers could do. But then Steve pulled back and smiled again, small and crooked with crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and it hit Sam with full force. This was  _ real. _

This wasn’t a fling or a flirtation, this was someone he  _ liked, _ a lot. Someone he could easily find himself falling for. Someone who had found all of Sam’s scattered pieces and might not mind putting them back together into something whole.

It was scary as hell, and for a moment, part of Sam screamed to pull back, abort now, return to self preservation mode before things got too far gone. His fears must have shown on his face, because Steve paused, one eyebrow raised. “Everything okay?”

Sam wanted to say  _ yes, of course,  _ but he couldn’t, not honestly. Evidently Steve had picked up on his unspoken hesitation. His smile closed down into a thin-lipped grimace, and he sat up quickly, leaving Sam cold without his touch. Sam hastened to sit up as well, gripping the edge of the comforter.

“Sorry,” Steve muttered as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I didn’t mean to…” He sighed and squared his shoulders, then looked over at Sam. “Shit happens on the road. We can just forget it.”

His casual tone didn’t quite disguise the hurt etched on his face. Sam shook his head, the comforter twisting between his fingers. “It’s not like that,” he insisted. “It’s not you, it’s just… I got a lot in my head right now, and…”

“Right,” Steve mused. “It’s not me, it’s you. Sure.” He kicked the covers to the foot of the bed, not looking at Sam. “Shocking as it may be, Wilson, I’ve been rejected before. More than a few times. Whatever’s wrong, it won’t be anything I haven’t heard before, so just… you don’t have to soften the blow or anything.” 

He turned back towards Sam with a rueful smile. “You can get rough with me. I won’t break.” Two knobby ankles swung over the side of the bed as Steve turned away and Sam’s heart began to shatter.


	5. Heartfelt Confession

“No!” Sam reached out and captured Steve’s wrist before he could get off the bed. “No, it’s not... I don’t…” He signed in frustration and gave Steve’s arm a gentle tug. “Please don’t go, I just… I need a minute.”

Steve looked down at Sam’s hand, then up into his eyes. He chewed on his lower lip, then nodded. Sam breathed out a low sigh as he let go of Steve and watched him scoot back onto the bed, knees drawn up so his arms wrapped around them.

They sat in silence for a while. Steve’s eyes remained fixed on Sam as he struggled to find the words to explain his nerves without sounding ridiculous. Eventually he gave up the search and decided to be direct, even if meant that Steve would laugh at him.

“Listen,” Sam said. “I  _ like _ you.”

Steve blinked, but said nothing. Sam cleared his throat and continued. “I like you more than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. Romantically, I mean. And it’s… I’ve never dated anyone who knew me as Cap, and… I dunno. It’s scary, alright?”

Relief flooded through him as he voiced his feelings, even as he cringed at himself for sounding so childish. He looked down at his hands, then back up at Steve, not sure what to expect.

He hadn’t expected to see such a gleeful expression. Steve’s eyebrows were arched in amusement, and he’d started to snicker. “Well, no shit,” he said with a shrug.

Sam scowled, and Steve grinned wider. “Honestly, Wilson, maybe you’ve been out of the game too long to remember, but let me tell you, dating is the  _ worst. _ It sucks, and it  _ is _ scary, and most of the time it doesn’t work out. And then you gotta do it all over again with someone new, and then  _ that _ doesn’t work out, and…” 

Steve made a circular motion with his hand as he rolled his eyes. Sam laughed and shook his head. The tension coiled in his shoulders eased up as Steve moved closer and clasped their hands together.

“But it’s worth it,” Steve said, voice low and cheeks pink, “because eventually you find someone who fits. Someone who feels like home. So sure, it’s scary, but you gotta take the chance.”

“I do, huh?” Sam ran his thumb over the inner part of Steve’s wrist. “That’s how it is?”

“Yeah,” Steve asserted. “That’s how it is.” His face drew into a serious expression, though Sam noticed the teasing spark in his eyes. “The snoring’s gotta stop though, or this’ll never work out.”

And even though Sam had a snarky reply in mind, Steve scrambled into his lap, and they didn’t wind up talking again until much later in the morning.


End file.
